


Not Frustrated Anymore

by pressedinthepages



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedinthepages/pseuds/pressedinthepages
Summary: smut prompt #24 - "I can make you cum harder than that.” “Try me.”In which reader is desperate and Geralt just wants to help
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 219





	Not Frustrated Anymore

The breeze from the open window cooled your burning skin as you lay bare on the bed, relentlessly thrusting your fingers in your cunt. You’d been traveling with Geralt for a short while now as a healer, thus spending most nights camping under the stars. Because of this, and the fact that you can’t stop thinking about the swell of the muscles in his arms or the unyielding fire in the amber of his eyes or the low timber of his voice worn to gravel through the years or any of the other impossibly tempting qualities the damn Witcher possesses, you’ve been carrying an ache for far too long with no means to quell it. So, when you finally arrived in the small town of Ellander and saw they boasted a sizeable inn, you rushed to the innkeeper and requested two rooms, handing over the extra coin needed. You would typically just share a room with Geralt, but you desperately needed some privacy. After sharing a small dinner, Geralt mentioned he wanted to walk around the town to look for contracts, for which you silently thanked the gods. As soon as he walked out of the tavern, you hastily made your way back to your room, barely pulling the door closed behind you as you shucked off the now smothering layers of clothing.  
Now, curling your fingers in a “come-hither” motion, you could feel the telltale burn of your impending pleasure at the bottom of your spine. You let out a low, drawn-out groan, like the salt of the sea crashing against the side of cliffs to high to crest. You worked yourself faster, pressing your palm against your clit as the tips of your fingers pumped in and out. You closed your eyes and found those honey-whiskey eyes, the raw strength, the sound of him groaning, and the fire behind your spine suddenly burst to life, spreading through your body and mind as you unconsciously let Geralt’s name roll from your tongue. Coaxing yourself down from your high, you took a few deep breaths and realized that though you had taken your pleasure, you were left unsatisfied. You let out a frustrated huff and let the chill from the wind lick your skin, offering little respite from the fire still flickering under your spine. Suddenly, the door to your room is thrown open, only to be slammed shut just as quickly.  
Having left the tavern and realizing that he had left his pouch in the room he was staying in, he swiftly turned around and headed back. As he passed your room to get to his own, he caught a whiff of a scent that had been following him for days, amplified and drawing him to the source. Geralt had smelled your arousal several times during their travels, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to provide you the relief you craved. He would never want to offend you or push you to do something that made you uncomfortable, especially since there were so few people anymore who looked at him without malice or fear. So, he did as he does best, pushing his feelings down and pretending they don’t exist. But, when he hears your accelerated heartbeat and quiet breathy moans, Geralt forgets about his pouch and lets himself lean against the wall by your door and take a long drag of the scent that had been plaguing his rational thoughts relentlessly. He felt dirty, listening to your most intimate, primal desires. He grows almost painfully hard and closes his eyes as he imagines his mouth on your cunt, tasting the source of your arousal and hearing you gasp and writhe beneath him. Geralt had been unwittingly palming his erection through his trousers when he heard you breathily gasp his name, at which his eyes shot open in disbelief. Once his mind caught up with his cock, he realized that you had found your pleasure with his name on your tongue, and he found himself aching to hear it again. However, he only heard a frustrated huff and the sound of your head flopping back on the pillow. Taking a deep breath, he noticed that your need had not been sated. Before he could think any better, he threw the door open and shut it back quickly, turning to face you.  
“Geralt,” you exclaimed, pulling one of the blankets to cover yourself, “what are you doing?”  
“I heard you say my name” he said simply, letting the implications of how he had heard it hang in the air. You paled, shrinking in on yourself and wishing that you could just turn into a puddle so that you would not have to deal with the mortification of being caught touching yourself by the very object of your desires. “I can make you cum harder than that.” You blinked and glanced back at him to confirm that you had heard him correctly. Geralt’s level expression bored into you, and you could tell that he was holding himself back so as not to push too far. In a moment of great courage, you proposed an offer: “Try me.”  
Geralt strode to the side of the bed and crouched to your level. You avoided the bright embers of his eyes, but he gently grasped your chin and brought your eyes to him. He pulled you to him, grazing his lips against yours in a chaste movement that was more of a question. When he pulled back, he saw the epiphany behind your eyes, followed quickly by a dark hunger, and felt your hands grab the soft fabric of his undershirt to roughly pull him back to you. Your lips crashed together like a ship tearing through stormy waters, all tongue and teeth and yearning. You rolled back, pulling him onto the bed where he settled above you, never breaking your embrace. You caught his bottom lip between your teeth, drawing from him a low groan that goes straight to your core, stoking the fire back to roaring life. Geralt pulled back and looked into your eyes, the need to confirm your want for this to continue at the forefront of his mind. You gently placed a hand on the side of his face and let out a sigh when he leans into your touch as though he has never felt such a caring touch. He rested his forehead against yours, and you could feel his thumb gently stroking your side as he breathily whispered your name. “I don’t wish to take any liberties with you, are you sure that this-” “Take them” you responded, threading your fingers through his hair and gently tugging, earning another sound from deep within Geralt’s chest.  
You tugged him back down and shifted, slipping your knee up to brush against his hard length as you kissed him again. He tasted of herbs and of frost, of the endless night sky looming overhead. It was addicting, and you longed to never live another moment without his lips on yours. And yet, as he moved away from your mouth and peppered kisses along your jaw and down your neck, you decided that you could be content as long as Geralt was within reach to touch and feel. He found a sensitive spot just under your ear and began suckling a mark into the skin there, his stubble scratching an itch that you didn’t know that you had. As he continued, you ran your hands down his broad chest, slipping the buttons of his shirt open as you made your way ever lower. You pushed your hands under the fabric, Geralt breaking his ministrations to lift the offending article over his head and cast it aside. He then swiftly dipped his head lower to your breasts where his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, drawing a sharp gasp from you as you arched further into his touch. His hand pulled the blanket off of you before kneading your other breast, occasionally tugging at the center, sending jets of fuel to the ever-growing fire inside of you.  
He moved lower and lower, settling himself between your thighs and leveling himself at your cunt. He wrapped his arms around your hips and brought his head forward, slowly licking from your entrance up to the bundle of nerves, giving an additional suckle when he gets there. Your hands flew to tangle in his hair, and he took his time in drinking you in. Your taste was so much sweeter than Geralt could have ever imagined, and he believed that he could happily be sustained on your slick alone for the rest of his life. You let out a long keen as he pushed one of his fingers inside of you, his mouth never relenting. He strengthened his grip on your hips as you tried to thrust further towards him, and added another finger. As you ran your fingers through his hair and gave a tug, Geralt moaned against your clit, forcing a new wave of arousal to dress his fingers. He could feel your walls fluttering and buzzing and your knees buckling around his waist, so all in one motion, he added a third curled finger, flattened his tongue against your clit, and let out a long moan. You let out a tumble of words, pleading and cursing and his name and it doesn’t make sense but he understands. His eyes lock with yours and the combination of all of the different sensations causes a lightning strike to your core, spreading the fire around you in euphoric bliss. The sound that is pulled from you is low and grating, and your nails raked across his scalp, trying to pull him impossibly closer. Geralt continued working you through your high, gently easing you back to him until the pleasure turned prickly and he pulled away, placing a kiss to the inside of your thigh.  
He slinked back up the bed to face you and you yanked him into a deep kiss, feeling the bulge in his trousers press against the same spot he left that last chaste kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips, the sharp tang a welcome addition to his taste on your tongue. You ran your hands down his back, fingers ghosting over the scars and burns and marks left by touch so different than what you’re offering now. Your hands slide to the front of his hips, and you palmed his erection hungrily, earning a primal growl that rumbles through you like rocks on a riverbed. You fumbled with the buttons, and Geralt reached down to take them from you, so you busied yourself with smoothing your hands across his front, slowly raking your fingers through the hair on his chest. As he freed himself, you reached to push his trousers fully off, and he stood to remove them. You found yourself in awe, seeing the raw power that his body possessed but knowing that he would never use that to harm you. He climbed back onto the bed, situating himself over you, but you hooked your leg around his waist and twisted, pulling him underneath you so that you straddled his legs. Geralt ran his hands up your thighs, giving your ass a squeeze as you leaned down, trying to fit every part of your bodies together. His hands settle on your waist and pull you forward, dragging your still-sensitive cunt along his thigh. You gasped a curse into his mouth and he chuckled, rocking your hips slowly up and down his legs. You’re dripping on him, and you started to meet his thrusts as the smoldering fire was stoked once more. You reach between your bodies and find him, cock flushed and weeping precome at the first glance of your fingers.  
You sat yourself up, bracing yourself on Geralt’s shoulders. As you lifted your hips above him, he took his cock in his hand and aligned himself at your entrance. When you felt the tip of him against your folds, you gently rocked, coating him in your slick and causing Geralt to hiss in pleasure. You slowly sank onto him, taking him in one motion. As you felt your hips meet his, your head fell back and the sound you let out was one of pure satisfaction, like the settling of snow or a thunderstorm after a drought. Geralt held himself still, fingers digging into your hips with the effort. You hoped there would be bruises in the morning to match your other love mark, claiming you as his own. This thought brought your eyes back to him, and you clenched your walls around him. “Fuck” Geralt rasped, gritting his teeth in a snarl full of hunger and lust. You began to roll your hips on him, spearing his cock deeper with every thrust.  
He pulled himself up and wrapped his arms around your waist, setting a breathtaking pace. He fucks into you hard, dragging himself through your tight, wet walls, relentless in his quest for your combined pleasures. Geralt felt you begin to quake and writhe, and he snaked a hand between your bodies to rub circles against your clit. Your fingers dug further into his shoulders, pulling a low groan, and it’s as if the stars have aligned. His voice will always be your undoing, and you feel the fire roll up your spine and down to where your bodies meet. You hide your face in the crook of his neck as he keeps fucking up into you, a strike of lightning with every movement licking every nerve on your body. You breathe his name and clench down on him simultaneously, and that’s all it takes to drag Geralt to his release as well.  
He shifted his hips, pinning you below him once more as he gripped your hips as though he may lose you. He thrusted as deep as he could into you and stilled, the first jets of his seed filling you, hot and thick and like standing far too close to a fire, the intensity enthralling you. As his peak built, Geralt sank his teeth into your shoulder and fucked you with short snaps of his hips as he rode the tidal wave of his ecstasy. He cursed, mindless and needy. You felt his spend drip out of you around his cock as he kept thrusting, still spilling into you and chanting your name like a prayer to a demanding god, one who asked for everything he had and then asked for more. When he finally stilled, you wrapped your arms and legs around him, cradling him and whispering in his ear. It didn’t matter what you said, Geralt could only tell that you were actually still there with him.  
He moved to pull out of you, rolling over onto his back next to you. You rolled with him, curling your body against his side, letting him wrap his arms around you and place a kiss to the top of your head. The room smelled of sweat and sex and sin and you tilted your head up, locking eyes with Geralt, a question on your lips. He gently stroked his thumb along your arm as he waited, worried that you were hurt, or worse, that you regretted what you had just done.  
“Geralt?” you whispered, scared that speaking too loudly or suddenly would scare away the peace that had settled in the room, “I need to tell you something.”  
Geralt let out a sharp breath and moved to get out of the bed. He didn’t want to hear the pity in your voice or the hatred dripping from your words, he only wanted to tuck this away for him to remember you by. However, before he could get anywhere, you grabbed the sides of his face and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. The kiss was not one filled with lust or ulterior motives, but only of true care and admiration. Geralt relaxed back into your embrace, gently brushing your hair back from your face. You pulled away first, Geralt’s lips chasing yours for a heartbeat before he looked back down at you.  
“I hope that means that you’d like for me to stay,” Geralt said, a small quirk on his lips.  
You smiled back, saying “There is nowhere on this continent that I would rather be than right here, in your arms.”  
You both relaxed back down into the bed, each other’s slow breathing and even heartbeats lulling you into a deep slumber, no longer frustrated.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading :) you can find me on tumblr @thefishmongersdaughterwrites


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